Kansas Mountains Poem by Daniel Y.

A golden pyramid of epic proportions
lies in the midst of the flat landscape.
A man defies the odds.
Wrapped in coats and scarves,
with gloves and hats and boots.
Ice picks, and ski sticks for walking.
Wide clambering snowshoes.
All is vanity, as he sinks to his neck,
Arms raised to heaven like a drowning gibbon.
Hailstorms bash in his skin, but you brave on.
The sphinx of the flatlands asks you a riddle.
“What lies at the top? ”
And your burning curiosity desires to know.
But the mountain’s just a straw man.
Standing on pile of cellulose,
And hay fields paint the horizon,
a jaundice yellow.
The hot sun has won the climb,
and now he retreats
back to his cave.
Under the sick prairies
and broken homes.